This story contains sensitive content


(Trigger warning: Crude and likely offensive humor, suggestive of a sophomoric mind; think Beavis and Butthead…or worse; pre-apologies to all.)

Doug- handsome, debonaire, confident, athletic, and charming; Wally- not so much.

“I’m telling you, Wally, I think tonight will be your night.”

“I don’t know, Dougie, I don’t feel comfortable in those situations. I never know what to say to a girl.”

“That’s why you’ve got me, Wally. Let’s go.”


 Wally and Doug sat at the bar like two kids in a candy store.

“What do you think, Wally, see anything you like?”

“I think I like everything, but that only makes it worse.”

“Listen, partner, you just need a little confidence. These women are waiting for guys like us to hit on them. Why don’t you start with the girl sitting next to you?”

“I don’t know what to say, Doug.”

“Watch the master and learn.”

Doug turned and stared at the young lady seated to his right. The woman finally noticed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that you have my mother’s eyes. She died when I was just six, and the thing I remember the most about her are her eyes.”

“That’s ok, I’m not offended. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Sometimes the memories just come back so fast, but it’s nice to think about her beautiful eyes.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

Doug pulled his barstool closer to the girl, turned and gave Wally a quick wink. Wally could only shake his head. The woman behind the bar witnessed Doug’s craftsmanship and Wally’s reaction.

“What about you, Wally? Anyone here have your mother’s eyes?”

“I can’t believe that drivel works, Susie.”

“It might not be drivel.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes it’s the fox that catches the hound.”

“Hmm, really?”

The bartender looked at the girl sitting a barstool away.

“That girl’s alone. Go ahead, Wally, talk to her.”

“Should I say something about her eyes?”

“Maybe tweak that a bit. I know I always like it when my husband says I have a nice smile. Give it a shot, Wally.”

Susie gestured toward the girl, and Wally slowly, stealthily leaned closer to the target. His heart rate picked up, and he could feel the sweat in his palms. Courage, Wally, courage. The woman finally turned toward Wally with an angry scowl on her face.

“What do you want?!”

“Uh, you have such a nice smile.”

“Get lost, loser!”


“I’m done, Doug. Maybe I’ll become a monk or something.”

“Maybe it’s time for Plan B.”

“What’s plan B?”

“The Internet! There are tons of women on those internet dating sites who are just as hard up as you are. Oh, sorry.”

“That’s ok. I understand.”

“I’ve found a bunch of love bunnies on those sites.”

“ No, no way. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with that. Besides, there are too many weirdos out there into some crazy, kinky stuff.”

It took Doug a moment to respond.

“Uh…yeah…it would be… terrible to run into someone like… that. But I’m telling you, man, that’s the new way to meet women. Millions of people are cruisin’ the Internet highway lookin’ for love.”

“I’m not going out with someone I haven’t even seen. I’m still hurting from the shot put champion you set me up with on a blind date in high school.”

“Yeah…I felt bad about that, but you had your license, and I didn’t.”

Wally glared at Doug.

“Well, that Internet stuff is stupid and dangerous, and I ain’t doin’ it!”

“Suit yourself. Listen, I’m heading out. You know my password. Just open my dating websites file and check out those matchmaker sites. Pick one. If you’re interested, set up your Bio. It’s so easy to do that even you might be able to do it. Then sit back and wait for the hordes of women hungry for your bod.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think so.”


Eight beers later, and with loneliness tightening its grip on him, Wally sat in front of his laptop.

What the heck, I guess it won’t hurt to just look. Let’s see what old Dougie’s been up to. Hmm… ‘Lonely’…sounds too desperate…‘Hot n’ Horny’…oh, Doug…‘Meat Me’…geez, they spelled meet wrong…or maybe they didn’t…Jesus Christ, Doug!... ‘Find a Friend’…that sounds good, not too desperate, not so pathetic…ok, let’s see if I can find a friend!


“I don’t get it, three weeks and you haven’t even had a nibble?”

“I told you the Internet thing was stupid.”

“Something isn’t right. Let me take a look at what you said about yourself in your Bio. Is your password still wallywally?”


“Let’s see…hobbies…watch sports with my friend Doug…oh, my God…Honor Roll 2nd semester 10th Grade…almost caught a really big bass once…slightly balding. Good grief, Wally! What the hell’s wrong with you?! This is worst Bio in history.”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s all true stuff.”

“Wally, Wally, Wally, you’re trying to sell yourself here. It’s ok to embellish a little bit.”

“I’m not going to lie about myself.”

 “Wally, that’s what people do. You’re advertising a product. You have to…holy crap!”


“You got a bite, just now, someone gave you a like and messaged you. I told you! I gotta’ fly. I have a date with the girl with the beautiful eyes! Go slow and try not to say anything too stupid.”


Wally was feverishly working his magic on the keys of his laptop when Doug returned.

“What are working on, Wally?”

“I’m still chatting with the girl on that Find a Friend site, Dougie, my boy. I hate to admit it, but you were right. She’s awesome.”

“Really? I told you. Let’s see her pic.”

“Not bad, not bad at all.”

“And she’s interesting and funny. And I think she likes me! She wants to meet me for dinner.”

“No, not dinner.”

“What’s wrong with dinner?"

“You never know about these things, Wally. She could be a real bow-bow or a complete dud, so you meet for her a drink so you can cut out in a hurry.”

“But she’s insisting on dinner at Henri’s.”

“Henri’s! That’s the most expensive place in town.”

“Get this! She says she’ll pay! I guess she’s got some big bucks.”

“She’s going to pop for dinner at Henri’s for a balding guy she’s never met and whose biggest accomplishment in life is landing on the high school Honor Roll once? Sounds a little scary to me, bud.”

“Nope, I like everything about Darlene. We could be talking love, sweet love, Dougie. I’m feelin’ pretty good about it. I think she’s a winner.”

“I hope so.”


Doug was greeted with Wally’s off-key crooning the moment he entered the apartment.

“Tonight, tonight, won’t be just any night, tonight there be lots and lots of stars…”

Doug grabbed a beer out of the fridge while Wally continued to prep himself for his big night. It was another half-hour before Wally finally exited his bedroom, wearing a dark brown suit and a matching tie.

“How do I look?”

“Are you going to a funeral or out to dinner with a young lady? That won’t do, Wally.”

“I just want to impress her, you know, kind of puttin’ on the Ritz.”

“Wally, she wants to go to dinner with you, not your dad. Let Dougie help you out. Come on, I’ll get you something more suitable for the occasion.”

Ten minutes later, Wally re-emerged from his bedroom wearing a flowered shirt, white pants, and a gold chain around his neck.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Are you sure about this? I think the suit would be better.”

“You want to compare track records? Trust me. Hold on one second.”

Doug undid the top button on Wally’s shirt.

“There, let her see some of that Faber physicality.”


 The night was built for romance, a clear sky, a full moon, and a warm breeze coming off the lake. Wally was getting nervous as he sat at the table on the veranda at Henri’s. The waiter, exuding the air of an aristocrat, arrived at his table, and Wally’s confidence slipped even further when he noticed the waiter was wearing the same shirt he had on.

“Good evening, sir, I am Renaldo. I’ll be serving you this evening. May I get you something from the bar? I like your shirt.”

‘Yes, thank you. Could you bring me a Miller Lite?”

‘A beer! What an exciting choice, sir. I’ll get that for you right now.”

“And could you bring a couple of menus? I’m waiting for someone.”

“Of course, sir. She’s probably just running a little late. I wouldn’t worry, sir.”

“I’m not worried.”

Worried? Maybe not. A little anxious, yes. Wally’s eyes were already bouncing back and forth from the entrance to the outdoor seating area to his watch as Renaldo returned.

“Two menus and your Miller Lite, sir. Would you like a glass, or do you drink it right out of the bottle?”

Wally gave Renaldo a perturbed look.

“A glass, please.”

Wally continued checking his watch as he sipped his beer. Anxiety was inching toward worry. Darlene was a good half-hour late when Renaldo returned.

“Would you like another… beer, sir?”


“And would you like to order now, sir?”

“No, I’m still waiting for my date.”

“Of course, you are, sir. She’s probably just fussing with her hair and makeup. You know how women are. I wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Of course, you’re not. I’ll get that…beer for you, sir.”

Thirty-five minutes, forty, forty-five. The increasingly annoying Renaldo returned.

“Could I get you an appetizer, or perhaps some reading material, sir?”

“No, I‘m still waiting.”

“She could be stuck in traffic, sir. I wouldn’t worry.”

“I am not worried!”

“Of course, you aren’t, sir. Could I get you…oh, wait, she could be arriving now.”

Wally turned to see a spunky, older woman dressed in a failed attempt to rekindle her youth and doused with enough makeup to make Tammy Faye Baker look like a cosmetics piker. A confused Wally watched Renaldo escort the woman to his table.

“Well, hello there! I’m Darlene, and you must be Willy.”

“It’s Wally.”

Wally’s head was spinning, wondering how he arrived at this place, as Renaldo assisted Darlene with her chair. Wally could only wish he was someplace else when the irksome waiter cast a skeptical look and a wry smile his way.

“May I get the lady something to drink?”

“Yes, a nice red wine and you can leave the bottle.”

Wally’s mother taught him not to stare, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes grew bigger as he tried to estimate her age, struggled to find comparisons between her picture and the reality sitting before him, considered possible escape routes, cursed Doug for suggesting the whole Internet thing in the first place, and marveled at the ability of layers of makeup to seemingly defy the laws of gravity.

“Listen, hon, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I had a whole bunch of errands to run, and the air conditioning is out in that shit-dump of a car of mine, so I got pretty sweated up.”

The stare continued unabated.

“So, I ran home to squirt a little deodorant on. Actually, I hit it pretty heavy. Do I smell ok?”

Darlene leaned closer to Wally, raised an arm, and with her other hand waved a little armpit air in his direction.

“Uh, yeah…you smell fine.”

“Good. I try to smell good all over for my men, well, not all over, if you know what I mean.”

“Uh, I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well, it’s like my 3rd husband Marty would say when he was down there grazing on the lower forty. Every so often he’d come up for air and say, ‘Darlene, there are only two things that smell like fish, and one of them is fish’. Oh my, we would laugh so hard.”

Wally’s eyes were now about out of his head. Darlene picked up her menu, looked at it for a moment, and then peered over the top.

“What do you say, Willy? Are you in the mood for fish tonight?”


Doug looked up from the TV when an angry-looking Wally entered.

“So, how did it go, partner?”

Through gritted teeth, Wally revisited his painful evening.

“How did it go? I don’t know where to start. Maybe with the condescending jackass of a waiter who was wearing the same freaking flowered shirt I had on.”

“I told you it was a popular shirt.”

“And my big date, the marvelous Darlene was an old lady! That picture must have been a couple of hundred years old. Then the first thing she wants me to do is to smell her armpits!”

“That’s odd.”

“Then she says something about sexual stuff she and her husband used to do.”

“Really? What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Doug. And out of nowhere, she starts talking about how only two things smell like fish.”

“Oh, I know that one.”

“And the icing on the cake? She conveniently forgot her freaking purse so I got to pay for everything.”

“Why didn’t you just bolt?”

“I thought about that, but she had all my information from your stupid website. I was afraid she’d hunt me down and armpit me to death. It was the worst night of my life.”

“Was the food good?”


Having struck out at the bars and given up on the Internet, Wally resorted to other possible ways to meet women- an adult coed volleyball league, Bible Study at the church he hadn’t been to for ten years, and line dancing classes at the ‘Y’. In a last desperate measure, he faked his way into a support group meeting for widows and widowers. Nothing good came from any of it.

“I hate seeing you like this, Wally.”

“That’s ok, Doug, I guess I was meant to be alone.”

“Try that Internet site again. You gave up too easily. But you gotta’ redo your Bio, man. It’s ok to pad it a little.”

“I’m not going to lie about myself just to get women to go out with me.”

“Wally, you have to do whatever it takes.”


When Doug came home from the bar one night, he found Wally staring at his computer screen.

“Hey, are you finally taking another look at those dating websites?”

“No way. Darlene scarred me for life. I’ve been checking out different places for monks. Some of them don’t look too bad, I mean, you get free food, a nice place to live, and your own little garden. You just can never drink, have sex, own anything, or talk again.”

“Yeah, I’d check it out… What the hell are you talking about, Wally?! Are you out of your freaking `mind?!”

“I thought I’d just look.”

“Wally, why don’t you try Darlene again? Maybe that was just an off night for her. Maybe…”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Doug.”

“Wally, a man has his needs. There’s no shame in…”

“Doug! Stop it!”

“Ok, ok, I was just trying to help.”


“Wally! I haven’t seen you in here for ages. It’s good to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Susie.”

“Where’s Cassanova?”

“Dougie got married. He’s got a kid already.”

“Doug married? I don’t believe it.”

“Yep, the girl with his mother’s eyes.”

“No way.”

“It’s true, so he doesn’t get out much anymore.”

“I can imagine. And what brings you in tonight?”

“I’m meeting a couple of girls here tonight.”

“Really? A couple of girls? As in two?”

“There’s only so much time in a day, Susie. Sometimes I have to double up.”


Two attractive girls entered the bar and scanned the bar room.

“Look, that might be him. Are you Walter?”

“Yes, right over here girls.”

“Ok, Wally, how’d you pull this off?”

“It’s called selling yourself, Susie.”


A couple of knocks, and then the door slowly opened.

“Hey, Wally, are you home?! It’s Doug. I thought I’d just drop by and see how you’re doin’.”

No answer. Doug looked around and noticed Wally’s open laptop on the table. He figured Wally wouldn’t mind, so he checked it out and was surprised to see Wally’s Bio on a dating site. It appeared Wally had finally taken his advice and embellished it a bit.

Sir Walter Faber, age 34.

 7th in line to the Luxembourg Throne.

Graduated Summa Cum Laude with a degree in Physics from Stanford University; Masters's degree from Harvard in Nuclear Engineering.

NCAA Decatholon Champion.

Astronaut- two trips to International Space Station.

Retired Hedge Fund Manager with homes in Hawaii, Aspen, and Paris.

Perform charity work at animal shelters and soup kitchens for the poor.

Warning- Traditional sex with Sir Walter Faber may result in injury or death due to his shockingly large instrument of love. All women wishing to engage in sex with Sir Walter will be required to sign Consent and Waiver forms prior to engaging in any sexual activity.

Doug could only smile.

May 21, 2023 02:51

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.


Mark Linsky
18:21 Jun 03, 2023

Murray: Some excellent dialogue here and it moves the story forward. Wally comes off as a 'man-child' and that works as well until, eventually, he does take Doug's advice and really invents himself on line. I thought a cute tool might be for Doug's pickup line to his future bride 'you have my mother's eyes' and she responds 'thanks' and then he says 'and she wants them back.' The intro of the older women had me smiling and I think that could be given more room to show Wally at his most helpless. Maybe her false teeth fall onto the tabl...


Show 0 replies
Philip Ebuluofor
15:04 May 22, 2023

Fine work here. A funny and believable tale too.


Show 0 replies
Tommy Goround
22:48 May 21, 2023

Clapping. The marvelous tales of Sir Walter. Content? Pretty immersive. In fact, I could see a slew of stories where Wally is the stiff and Doug is the agitator. So, the title is excellent with ending. Really perfect and memorable. Something I like (compared to perfect immersion) is that, as a reader, I can keep wondering 1) who winds up with the bartender? 2) he becomes a monk and meets a nun, etc. ? The ending beat all those options. Clapping


Murray Burns
02:00 May 22, 2023

I really appreciate your thoughts. Funny you should mention those 2 possible outcomes...I struggled with how to end this, and the 1st 2 ideas were he ends up with the bartender...or does become a monk and gets weekly visits from Doug- pointless because Wally has taken a vow of silence. In the end...Wally was the victim of a BS bio, so he flips it and uses a BS bio to his advantage. I did worry if the Darlene/ 3rd husband thing was a little too gross, but I wanted the date to be as bad as possible...Thanks.


Tommy Goround
02:52 May 22, 2023

Hmmm.... Nah. It gave it an edge and you did not go crude. You used art. :) Birth and death are all very crude. People forget.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Lily Finch
12:48 May 21, 2023

I can see why his popularity has changed so that women are coming out of the good work to have the chance to date him, Wally. The fabricated details would appeal to most women looking for a date candidate. Well done with the story and your writing. All good. Thanks for the good read, Murray. LF6


Murray Burns
13:32 May 21, 2023

Thank goodness you're out there. I appreciate it so much. For the one zillionth time, you're my hero.....are there any good proofreading schools in Canada you could send me to? Thanks


Lily Finch
15:43 May 22, 2023

The proofreading school is connected to the dictionary school run by Ms. Finch. a.k.a. Lily Finch, author with Reedsy. But you wouldn't know it. She writes and writes and writes but has yet to get anywhere. It's like running in a bushel basket. Geez, oh, peez. Know what I mean, Vern? Tuition is reasonable for American friends who went to college and graduated with honours designation or higher. Ms. Finch holds a Master of Arts in Leadership and Training and encourages participation from all disciplines. C'mon, give it a try! LOL LF6


Murray Burns
00:32 May 23, 2023

Where do I sign?! I hope it's a party school! "Getting anywhere"...1) To be generous, the judging is suspect. 2) My daughter was on a US National Team for years. She had the most wonderful coach (Multiple Olympic Mead winner and toughest person/woman I've ever known). She would always tell the kids/young adults- "Don't do this for a reward at the end... because you hope to win medal someday. Too many things can go wrong...and you don't need it. You do it because you like doing it...everyday.


Lily Finch
17:24 May 23, 2023

It is the most rockin' party school going since the proprietor is the professor of the year and was voted the best professor in the building since its inception in 1987. Don't send any money just send commitment of entry. Daughter stories of grandeur count as points toward your house. We do this because we like it... ...every day. LOL LF6


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Mary Bendickson
05:45 May 21, 2023

Truth in advertising 😉! Close to bottom Wally noticed Wally laptop thought Wally wouldn't mind...


Murray Burns
13:44 May 21, 2023

1) Thanks for catching my boo-boo. Writing is the fun part; proofreading is the work part. I seem to lack the requisite discipline and/or patience. 2) Yeah, I'm starting to worry about myself. I had several debates with myself about whether Darlene's reference to her 3rd husband Marty was suitable for human consumption...other than the crowd in the basement bar room in my college fraternity house so many years ago. I'm not sure if Trigger Warnings can forgive all sins...maybe I'll look into therapy programs that offer some kind of a maturit...


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
RBE | Illustration — We made a writing app for you | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

Yes, you! Write. Format. Export for ebook and print. 100% free, always.